The Emi Lost & Found Series

  “Oh, wow, Em... I think I found it... and it’s spectacular...” It’s Emi, lying on a blanket in front of the fireplace in the old apartment. She’s wearing only a pair of jeans, unbuttoned and unzipped, resting on her elbow, looking into the fire. Her eyes are intense, lips slightly parted, cheeks rosy. “You are so beautiful. He captured you perfectly.”

  “I don’t even think I ever saw the finished product,” she says, kneeling behind me, rubbing my shoulders. We both sigh at the same time. “He was truly an artist.” She wraps her arms around me, rests her head on my shoulder.

  “How are you not bored with me, Emi? I have no talents like that. I can’t even draw stick figures. I don’t write. I can’t sing... I mean... do you miss those things?”

  “Not for a second, Jack. You ground me... I feel... I don’t know, I guess I feel balanced with you. Like with Nate, when it was bad, when we weren’t best-of-friends, our future was shaky. It was a little unpredictable. I wasn’t always certain of any outcome.

  “With you, though... you know, I had doubts about you... but they weren’t really about you. I had doubts because the biggest relationship of my life taught me to be cautious and uncertain...

  “But now, I know you are here to stay. I will never doubt you again. You are my constant. You’re my stability. You’re my life and my future. You have loved me like no one else– no one– ever has.”

  “Were you talking to me?” I ask her, touching the painting.

  She slaps my chest, hard. “You get to see that anytime you want.”

  “I know,” I smile. I turn around and look at her, and we kiss again. “But are there any more like this one?” I ask.

  “Not that I posed for,” she answers. “But who knows? He had a great imagination. Those other ones weren’t posed for.”

  I pull another canvas toward me and unwrap it. It’s a painting of Emi and Clara, playing in the fall leaves.

  “I should give that to Jen... she’d love that,” Emi says. “Just look at her smile,” Emi says. “Wow, that was almost three years ago already.”

  “She’s grown so much,” I notice. “And she looks like you.”

  “It’s just the hair,” she shrugs it off.

  “No, it’s that smile, too. See, she has the same dimples.”

  “Maybe we favor each other a bit.”

  “I think so.” I start in on the next canvas. “What do you think is in the other box?”

  “I don’t know... but we’re about to find out.” She peeks in.

  “Oh,” she whispers as if the wind had just been knocked out of her. She stares into the box, her gaze fixed intently on the contents.

  “Emi?”

  She doesn’t answer me immediately.

  “Emi, are you okay?”

  Quickly, two tears fall into the box. She reaches in slowly, pulling out a shattered and crumpled iPhone and setting it on the ground next to her. As Ruby comes over to sniff it, I put it on the table, tiny shards of glass sticking to my hand. I rub the flecks off of my palm and take Emi’s into mine, examining it for glass, picking off a few tiny pieces.

  She pulls out a set of keys next, and after that, a tiny velvet pouch. She opens it and pulls out two platinum cufflinks. “He wore these that night.” She puts them back in the pouch and hands it to me.

  “I didn’t think she would have saved this stuff,” Emi says. She holds up a book, its pages ragged, the cover bent. The Pregnancy Book. This item, she tosses across the room. “Won’t be needing that,” she murmurs in a daze.

  “Emi, stop,” I tell her, taking the box from her with no struggle. Ruby jumps into her empty lap, and she holds the puppy tight, petting her softly, her eyes averted to the space in front of her. Inside are a few presents wrapped in colorful Christmas paper. I take them out, see that the tags on both of them simply say, Love ya, Em. I pull the last item out, a stuffed giraffe. It looks used, worn, dirty, but still has the tags. I attempt to distract her, to pull her out of her trance with the little plush animal. “Was this his toy, from when he was younger?” I ask, waving the giraffe in front of her vacant stare. As soon as her eyes focus on it, Emi lunges to grab it as I pull the string, waiting to hear a soft lullaby... surprised to hear a voice, his voice.

  “Thirteen years. One night.”

  I try to stifle the sound with my hands, but it’s too late.

  “Nine months. One small baby will deliver true love. I can’t wait to see you.”

  “My god,” I sigh. “I am so sorry.” I crawl to her on my knees, move Ruby aside and hold Emi tightly.

  “Don’t be,” she says, the lump in her throat audible. “He bought that for the baby the night of the accident,” she tells me softly, a faint smile spreading across her face. “He played it for me while we sat at the red light. He was watching my reaction when the light changed.”

  She had never spoken of the details of the accident. I had never asked. I didn’t know if she remembered, or if she just wanted to forget.

  “I saw the other car coming. I yelled out to him, but it was too late. He didn’t have time to react. Didn’t even have time to look scared... I can remember he was still smiling, proudly, when the impact hit the car.” She begins to shake her head, slowly first but growing more rapid. Her face crumples in pain as I press her head to my chest.

  “Shhhh,” I rock her steadily, let her cry against me. I sit back down and pull her into my lap.

  “The way he was looking at me,” she sobs quietly, her eyes shut tight. “I can’t stand it. It scares me, Jack, it scares me...”

  “It’s okay,” I tell her. “It’s going to be okay, Emi, sweetie.”

  “I don’t want to see him like that...” She seems lost in her thoughts.

  “Em, open your eyes,” I urge her. “Emi, look at me. It’s all right.” Finally, she pries her eyes open to meet mine, a look of relief spreading across her face as soon as she focuses on me. She reaches up and touches my face, outlines my lips with her finger. I take her hand and kiss her palm slowly. She pulls away to unbutton two more buttons on my shirt, and slips her hand inside, covering my heart. She presses her ear to my chest.

  “I’m here, Em. You’re safe here.” Her tears subside as we sit quietly for a few more minutes before she responds. Her breathing slows with a few heavy sighs. Eventually, she looks up at me, her eyes a little red, but pleading... wanting... needing...

  “I know, Jack,” she says, smiling as her muscles relax in my arms. “I’m so–”

  I interrupt her apology with a deep kiss, breaking away to make a request. “Please don’t ever apologize for sharing these moments with me. Your feelings and your memories are not things to be sorry for. They’re beautiful pieces to this great and intricate puzzle that is... you. So uniquely you.” I smooth her hair down.

  “And I love finding new pieces, finding the right place for them, each one making you a little more... more visible to me. There are so many facets to you, Emi. And each one... each and every one... reveals something completely new about you. Every time I learn something new, I realize there is so much more I don’t know. And I thirst to know everything... understanding that I never can... that I never will... that you will always surprise me.

  “See, where you need stability, I need a little unpredictability. It keeps me on my toes... and it keeps me completely enthralled with you. That’s why we’re so good together.”

  She nods, still smiling. “Can we go upstairs?” she asks.

  “Of course.” I assume she wants to get away from the memories, but am surprised as I follow her path through the house.

  She leads the way to the second floor and continues on to the third, to our bedroom. She lets go of my hand, leaving me in the doorway as she crosses the room to look out the balcony window. Ruby paws at the glass, and Emi opens the door so our dog can explore the patio.

  “Do you think he’s happy for me?” she says quietly.

  “I do. I really do. As long as you’re happy, I know he is.” I follow her
to the window and rub her arms slowly. She takes my hands in hers and pulls them across her body.

  “Sometimes I feel guilty,” she admits.

  “About?”

  “How happy I am. You know, is it fair? Is it right?”

  I kiss the top of her head. “You deserve this. It’s more than fair. It’s more than right. You should never feel guilty with what life has given you... nor with any of the choices you’ve made.” She nods slowly.

  “I made the best choice when I picked you.” I can hear a smile.

  “Picked me? I picked you, are you kidding? This whole thing was my choice!”

  She turns around in my arms laughing, pushing me away playfully against my chest. “Who kissed who that night in college?”

  “You were drunk, you didn’t know what you’re doing,” I tease.

  “Like hell I didn’t.”

  “Alright then, Poppet, I’ll concede to that, but then who kissed who after Chris’s rehearsal dinner?”

  “I wanted it,” she whispers, coming back into my arms.

  “I’m glad I could give you what you wanted. I hope I always can,” I tell her in earnest. Our lips meet for a kiss, one that starts slowly but develops into something urgent quickly.

  “I just want to feel close to you,” she says, her words desperate. “I want to feel as close as I possibly can. I want to feel like nothing will ever come between us.”

  “Nothing can, Emi. Nothing ever will.”

  She finishes unbuttoning my shirt and taking it off. I remove my undershirt as she takes off her blouse. I put my arms around her, unhooking her bra and pulling it from her shoulders before I bring her in tightly, embracing her. She kisses my chest slowly. She runs her fingers down my stomach, tracing my abs, until her hands reach the waistband of my pants.

  “Mmmm...” she says, smiling. “You are so good to me, Jack. You’re good for me.” She kneels on the bed, still facing me, pulling me toward her for another kiss. Eventually, I guide her down to the pillows and lie down next to her. She moves on top of me, pulling one of her legs over mine, sitting up. She holds one of my hands as we stare at one another, saying nothing but saying everything.

  “Come here, you,” I urge her quietly and pull her gently down on top of me. She kisses me, sweeping her lips over mine briefly. “I love you,” I sigh. She returns the sentiment. I wrap my arms tightly around her, run my fingers up and down her back until, after a bit, she falls asleep.

  After about an hour, I move her as carefully as I can to the pillows.

  “Don’t go,” she whispers, still not entirely awake.

  “I’ll be right back,” I assure her, covering her with a blanket. I first head to the kitchen for a drink, waiting for her to follow me but hoping she’ll go back to sleep. I take Ruby outside, peering back at the house for any sign of Emi. The bedroom light doesn’t come on. She doesn’t come down.

  I return to the basement with some tape and carefully cover the paintings back up. I put all the items she had removed from the boxes back into them neatly, securely, and seal them tightly. I move everything into the empty closet of one of the bedrooms, turning the light off and softly closing the door.

  CHAPTER 11

  “How am I going to enjoy this holiday when the wedding is in eight days?” she says as her legs bounce anxiously in the car. “Eight days, Jack. We’re getting married in eight days!”

  “It can’t get here fast enough,” I tell her.

  “Are you kidding? There’s so much to do!”

  “There’s nothing to do, Emi. It’s all done. Whatever isn’t done isn’t that important.”

  “Whatever,” she scoffs. “I don’t have my something old or my something blue,” she states, matter-of-fact.

  “I could take care of both of those for you,” I suggest, secretly knowing that I already have done one, and she will find out in a matter of hours when she opens the presents I got her for Christmas.

  “No,” she hedges. “You still have tons to do, too. You’ve got to pick up your brothers this week, get the tuxes... did you think of a gift for Matty?” she asks.

  “He doesn’t need a gift,” I remind her.

  “It’s customary,” she says. “You have to get him something.”

  “Fine, I’ll figure it out, but I’m not going to stress over this... no matter how much you try to suck me in to your world of anxiety.” She playfully slaps my forearm. “Come over to my side,” I suggest. “It’s calm and hassle-free over here.”

  “I don’t know how you do it,” she comments as I park the car in front of her father’s house. “But I’m glad you do.” I walk to the passenger’s side, where she steps out of the car and immediately embraces me in a tight hug. “It does feel good on your side.”

  “Stay, then.”

  “Hey, guys!” Anna calls from the front step, holding Eli, bundled in a bright blue coat and matching knitted cap.

  “Oh, look how cute he is!” Emi exclaims.

  “Go say hi to your godson,” I encourage her. “I’ll grab the gifts.” She doesn’t even let me finish my sentence before bounding up the sidewalk. She takes the baby from Anna’s hands and smothers him in kisses as she carries him inside.

  “Hey, man,” Chris says as he comes down the sidewalk. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas to you, too.”

  “Need help?”

  “I could use a hand,” I tell him, giving him a few large boxes from the backseat. We carry the gifts into Emi’s dad’s house and place them under the tree.

  “Jack,” Emi’s dad says from across the dining room table after lunch. “Do you think you could help me with the Christmas lights? I could use your height. One of the bulbs is out and I can’t quite reach it, and we don’t want Santa to miss the house because of it.” He winks at Clara.

  “Of course,” I tell him, pushing away from the table and following him outside. A ladder is already set up, leaning against the side of the house. He points out the broken light and I climb the ladder with a replacement in hand.

  “How’s work going, Jack? You staying busy?”

  “Yes, sir,” I tell him. “But I’m looking forward to the wedding and the honeymoon so I can get away from the business for a little bit.”

  “Do you think you’ll be traveling overseas again next year?”

  “I imagine so,” I tell him, unscrewing the faulty bulb. “That will probably be a biannual thing for me. But of course I hope Emi will join me for the full trip this time. And if you and Elaine would ever like to travel with us, the invitation is always there.”

  “That’s a very nice offer, Jack,” her father says. “Listen, I wanted to get a little time with you today.”

  “Well, you have a captive audience,” I say from the top of the ladder. “What can I do for you, Robert?”

  “It’s not what you can do,” he says. “It’s what you’ve done.”

  “Is something wrong?” I ask him, looking down at him.

  “No, son,” he says. I smile to myself. “Jack, what you’ve done for my daughter over the past few years... it’s impressed the hell out of me.”

  “Wow,” I say, taken aback and installing the replacement bulb. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  “My Emi needed a good man like you.”

  “That’s very kind,” I tell him. “I think we’re a pretty good fit for one another. Are they all lit?” I ask, motioning to the string of lights.

  “That looks good,” he says, holding on to the ladder as I descend the steps. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  “I have to admit, I thought I knew what was best for her. When you told me you were going to ask her to marry you, I thought it was too soon. I honestly didn’t believe she was ready to leave him behind. We still weren’t ready.”

  “It’s fine,” I tell him. “I respect that.”

  “No, it’s not fine. You knew better. You know her better. You helped her better than we could, in ways we never knew how. Yo
u are the best thing that could have happened to her. And she needed the best.”

  “I feel the same way about her,” I admit.

  “Well, I just want to thank you. On behalf of her mother and her step-parents. Thank you for giving her hope again. You wouldn’t let her be a victim of her past. You have such patience, and such compassion. And you believe in her.”

  “I do. I believe in her and I love her. And I hope I’ve proven that I would do anything for her. I’ll keep her safe. I’ll make her happy, just as she makes me happy.”

  Emi’s father’s eyes begin to water. “Congratulations, Jack. And welcome to the family. I’ll be proud to call you my son.”

  “Thank you, Robert.”

  “You can call me ‘Dad.’”

  “Thank you, Dad,” I respond, extending my hand to shake his. He pulls me in for a hug.

  Once we get inside, Clara is begging Jen to open her presents under the tree. Emi and her stepmother pass out hot chocolate for everyone as they get comfortable in the living room. Jen, Clara, Anna and Eli all sit on the floor closest to the tree.

  Emi finally joins me on the couch with a glass of wine in hand. I set down my mug and nudge her to sit up so I can rub her tense shoulders. She doesn’t argue. When I’m finished, she pulls her feet up on the couch and leans back against me, my arms holding her tightly. Periodically, someone will hand us presents to open.

  Brian and Jen got Clara a bike with training wheels, so the three of them go outside to play with the new toy. Anna watches as Chris tries to assemble a play mat for Eli, who is sleeping peacefully in his mother’s arms. Emi and I help her parents clean up the paper and boxes before excusing ourselves later that evening.

  “I can’t wait for you to open your present,” she says on the way to the hospital.

  “I can’t wait for you to open yours, either. Do you want to do it tonight when we get home?”

  “No. Let’s save it so we have something to look forward to tomorrow.”